


Driven by Restrained Desire

by oneill



Category: Karneval
Genre: M/M, Silence Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 09:39:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneill/pseuds/oneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the fic_promptly prompt: Author's choice, author's choice, don't say a word</p>
            </blockquote>





	Driven by Restrained Desire

"Forgive my impertinence," Hirato said, "but you seem rather stressed, Akari-san."

Akari swatted a hovering bank of monitors away, dragged a fresh set through the air to take their places. "If I'm stressed, it's because you're sitting there simpering while I try to work!" he tossed over his shoulder.

"I see. My apologies." Hirato laced his fingers and brought them up to rest his chin on them. "Well, then. Shall I relieve some of that stress for you?" he said. His eyes narrowed like a challenge. "As the responsible party."

Akari felt his throat clamp shut for an instant. Hirato continued to smile, placid as ever.

Akari was well aware of the jokes people made about his dedication to his work; if nothing else, a few were either stupid, highly ranked, or just plain rude enough to tell them to his face. Countless times Tsukitachi had teased him about staying shut up in the Research Tower's upper labs like a monk in a cloister. _Honestly, Akari-chan, even you should be able to see how cute these nurses are. Why not stay a while and enjoy the view?_ Even his mentor had a fondness for implying that the entirety of Akari's sexual knowledge derived from Circus's breeding programs for endangered species.

But Akari knew what Hirato was offering. More importantly, he knew Hirato. The man spoke chicanery as his first language, but it all followed a thread of logic. A somewhat skewed logic, perhaps, but a logic nonetheless. Years of working together had forced Akari to pick that thread from all the surrounding noise, to read Hirato better precisely _because_ he was so reliably deceptive. And this was not the first time Hirato had made such an offer.

Curiously, he never made these advances after getting Akari drunk.

Akari realized he had allowed the silence to stretch between them, and he knew the years had rendered Hirato similarly skilled at reading _him_. The smile had something new in it now. Something uncomfortably like triumph.

"You won't say a _word_ ," Akari growled. He did not dare to phrase it as a question, though in all honesty, he had no idea whom he expected Hirato to tell. They each had fully as much to lose to indiscretion.

He _was_ close to Tsukitachi, Akari supposed. Would they talk about something like this? Somehow, he could only imagine their conversations as limited to the business of Circus, the consumption of alcohol, and the most efficient means of infuriating Akari. Colleagues and conspirators, Akari could understand, but the thought of Hirato having a _friend_ was simply too . . . normal? Too human? Akari was not sure whether that said more about Hirato or himself.

Hirato nodded and rose from his seat. Akari took a reflexive step back as Hirato splayed a gloved hand over his chest, and then Hirato was pushing him, until he stood backed against the wall. As Hirato threaded their fingers together to secure him in place, Akari became abruptly and acutely aware of how much stronger Hirato was. Not because he was rough, but because he was relentlessly gentle.

He guided Akari's hands up over his head, then shifted his grip to hold them there with just his left hand. His right came down to Akari's chin, and for a panicked moment, Akari thought Hirato would kiss him.

He did, though not on the mouth. Instead, Hirato tipped Akari's chin up, dipped his own head, and traced searching lips over Akari's exposed throat. Akari slid his eyes shut and just focused on the feel of it: a deliberate tongue on his Adam's apple, the scrape of blunt teeth over a tendon, soft lips taking a sucking sip of his skin--

Akari's eyes shot open. "Don't you _dare_ leave a mark there, Hirato."

He felt Hirato move back and laugh, caught in the act. No voice to it--just a puff of warm breath against Akari's kiss-dampened skin. Yet that laugh unraveled the growing undercurrent of disquiet that Akari had been trying and failing to place.

Bringing his head back down to regard Hirato levelly, he said, "Why are you . . . ?"

He realized, now, that he had expected a stream of measured murmurs from Hirato.

_Is this good, Akari-san?_

_May I touch you here?_

_Well, then. What shall I do now?_

Hirato raised his eyebrows, his eyes widening in the caricature of a bewildered naïf.

Well, of _course_. Akari would have rubbed his temples, were his wrists not pinned. He should have known that giving Hirato directions in this matter was akin to wishing on a monkey's paw.

He sighed, frowning. "Never mind."

Hirato smiled: _I'm pleased we could come to an understanding, Akari-san._

Irrationally, Akari's body chose this of all moments to flush, and he could feel the heat reach all the way to the tips of his ears. Hirato saw it--had to see it--but the rules of his little game restrained him from comment.

Instead, he slipped a finger behind the knot of Akari's tie, tugged it loose, undid his collar, then one button after that. He bent to drop soft, open-mouthed kisses just below Akari's clavicle. Then he halted, lips loose and still, waiting, asking.

" _No_ , Hirato."

 _As you wish._ Hirato drew back, and the hand pinning Akari's wrists followed suit. Akari folded his freed hands, slid them down just enough to get them behind his head. Hirato chuckled again, seeing that, still mercilessly silent. He traced admiring hands over Akari's flanks, down to his hips, glided one across to close over the front of Akari's pants and find him half-hard already. _Here, then?_

To think Akari could possibly miss that smug purl. Hearing only the whisper of cloth and his own ragged breaths unnerved him more than he would have thought. Damned if he was going to admit that to Hirato, though.

"Do it," he said.

He bit back a moan when Hirato sank to his knees.

It was not the first time that had happened, but context made all the difference. Hirato undid Akari's belt and fly, freed his cock, and wrapped one hand around to stroke him harder. The fine cotton of his gloves felt almost rough on Akari's oversensitive skin.

Hirato moved slowly, baiting Akari to thrust into his hand. Akari held his hips hard against the wall, though he almost jerked involuntarily when Hirato's hand stilled completely.

Akari glanced down, supposing that Hirato had paused to roll on a condom. Hirato merely wet his lips, and Akari's cock jumped in response.

All Circus employees were required to undergo thorough, monthly physicals--no exceptions granted. The most recent round of examinations took place a few days back; Akari knew they were both negative. Access to that information was not mutual, however.

This struck Akari as absurd, reckless in a way Hirato was not.

Any hope of unraveling that particular mystery evaporated as Hirato sucked the tip of Akari's cock between his lips. Akari pressed his head back against the wall, pinning his hands in place. He did not quite trust himself to control them otherwise. They would wander into Hirato's artfully mussed hair, pull him closer, knock his hat to the floor. The Banshees within would not retaliate--Hirato would never allow it, Akari knew, even without the protection of his rank. It seemed an unacceptable intrusion all the same.

Akari could not explain why it was wrong to touch Hirato's hat, even as he made use of his mouth. Perhaps his own logic was beginning to skew as well. Hirato's bad influence, no doubt.

Hirato still made no noise, other than the soft lapping, sucking sounds that were inevitable as he ran lips and tongue over Akari's length before going fully down on him. Akari felt a twinge of _resentment_ then, at Hirato's skill, the smooth ease of it, his perfect mastery over his gag reflex.

Maintaining that frame of mind required more concentration than Akari had to spare, though, and soon his every thought distilled down to the slide of Hirato's lips, the hungry draw of his tongue, the assumptive clench of the muscles of his throat as he swallowed around Akari. For one moment, there was nothing, nothing in Akari's mind except _this_ , all the expectations and obligations reduced to so much white noise and just as easily tuned out.

He only just remembered himself in time to say, "Hirato." He had meant it as a warning; it sounded more like an adoration.

Hirato understood. He pulled away, and Akari nearly bit through his lip, letting him. A silk handkerchief appeared from Hirato's breast pocket, and he wrapped it around Akari's length with the professional grace of a waiter preparing to serve champagne. He took Akari in a firm hand, then raised his face for the first time since he had knelt.

The look Akari saw in those dark eyes--pure, naked want, for _this_ , for Akari--finished him, and he had to yank a hand free and clap it over his own eyes, had to wrap his other arm tight around his chest as he panted and jerked and spilled himself for Hirato. That look was more than he could handle, right now.

Hirato continued to hold him, gentling him as the stars faded from behind his eyes. Then he wiped Akari fastidiously clean, tucked the mess away in the inner folds of the handkerchief, and put Akari's pants and belt back in order. He probably would have done the same for the shirt and tie, but Akari's arm remained locked over his chest.

Still breathing hard, Akari held out his free hand and frowned. "I'll take that," he said, his voice almost steady. He still could not meet Hirato's eyes. Not yet.

Another muted laugh as Hirato relinquished the handkerchief. Caught again. He rose, bowed, then turned to go.

Akari meant to call him back. To offer . . . He wasn't sure. _Something_. But watching Hirato stride away--his gait unsteady for the first time that Akari had ever seen--took his voice.


End file.
